


Contempt of Cupcake

by yesile



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cupcakes, Flanderization, Gen, Humor, cooking contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 01:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13893024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesile/pseuds/yesile
Summary: Just a wacky, pointless, somewhat flanderized (probably too long) story about a few original characters being their stupid, incredibly flawed selves as they bake cupcakes for a competition.They're law people, thus the title, that still doesn't make sense.





	Contempt of Cupcake

**Author's Note:**

> Manjoon is owned by dewdroponleaf (this site)  
> Edwin and Atakin are owned by 'Lady Ema Skye' (Google+)  
> Typhon is owned by 'Reptillious Productions' (Google+)  
> Susan is owned by Ben ~~of Many names~~ (Google+)

Today was the annual Courtroom Cooking Contest, in which legal professionals gathered together at Detective Case’s bakery to compete for the title of “Courtroom Confectionery King.” Despite the protests of one man who claimed only judges should be judges, the tradition had always been to alternate based off of courtroom role, and this year, a defense attorney by the name of Park Manjoon—or Manjoon Park for all you Westerners out there—received the honor of judging the hopefully delicious chocolate cupcakes the competitors were required to make. It wasn’t the most interesting of desserts, but Manjoon was excited to see what exactly people came up with. Enough blatant, poorly executed exposition for you? Good.

“Now, let’s see…” Manjoon’s eyes scanned the list of participants, wondering who he should visit first. “Ah, Deems, of course.”

Mr. Mendel was a man near and dear to his heart—but regrettably also the man who had been advocating for the petty judge-only judge rule for a good three years. Speaking of which, Manjoon wouldn’t be surprised if that was what was currently on his mind, given how the normally appearance-conscientious man was uncharacteristically hunched over his mixing bowl, stirring angry circles into the batter with his egg beater.

“Damn lowlifes, wanting to be judges so badly… _Ha!_ They’re so envious of me that they’re jumping at the chance to just have a taste of the power I—”

 _“Ahem.”_ Manjoon cleared his throat, earning him a startled ‘eep!’ and a face-spattering of batter from the judge as he whipped himself around, dirty egg beater still in hand.

“Oh, thank god it’s only you, Manjoon!” Deems sighed, heart still pounding from the scare. “I could’ve sworn you were one of my nemeses, out to kill me, all because I actually have standards for who should be judge. ...Not that you’re a bad judge. You’re just not a judge at all. You see, judges have a particular quality to them, that most others can’t...”

It was Manjoon’s turn to let out a sigh as Deems continued to spout his high and mighty nonsense as a way to inflate his own already huge—yet incredibly fragile—ego. Honestly, he was pretty sure Deems wanted to be judge so he could be in the spotlight and stuff himself with desserts: two of the things the greedy man loved most.

“Look Deems, I’m not here to debate this issue; I’m just here to see how your cupcakes are coming along.” Manjoon finally interrupted after suffering through enough of the judge’s rapid-fire ranting.

He was expecting a high-pitched whine as a response, but was instead greeted with a downright menacing laugh.

“Eh heh heh… They’re coming along wonderfully, of course.” Deems chuckled, slightly...unhinged, to put it lightly. Before Manjoon could respond, he found himself yanked closer to the judge by means of a hand on his waist. “I’m glad you’re here, Manjoon. You see, there’s something I need to tell you. Something _very_ important.”

“And that is…?” As the judge cozied up to him, Manjoon hoped he was about to finally express his words of undying love, but given how...sinister he was acting, he was afraid it was something more akin to ‘please poison Att’ or the like.

“See this cayenne pepper?” Deems asked, waving it in front of the attorney’s face. “I’m going to dump a whole ton of it into my entry.”

Manjoon had to take a moment to let that sink in, and take another moment to formulate a way he could let Deems down as delicately as possible.

“Deems… I’m no master chef, but I’m pretty sure heaps of cayenne pepper and cupcakes do not go together. You want a _hint_ of it, at most.”

“That’s not the point. The point is you’ll be able to tell which dessert is mine during the blind taste test. Get it? Then you’ll be able to easily pick _me_ as the winner. Okay, LET’S DO THIS!”

Deems’ hand darted to the pepper’s lid, but thankfully Manjoon was able to place his hand on top of his before he got any further.

“Deems, stop! The test is blind for a reason! You’re a _judge,_ for crying out loud! You of all people should want a fair competition!”

Manjoon knew Deems wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen, but he hoped his words could at least convince him to drop this childish plan.

Instead, he was granted an eye roll.

“Oh, come on, Manjoon. I’d probably win even if I didn’t cheat; I’m just adding this to make _sure_ I win.” Deems replied, tugging at the bottle.

“No, it’ll make sure you _lose!_ If you’re confident with yourself, just fight fairly! Wouldn’t cheating just make your victory less special?”

“But cheating’s the only way I _know_ I’ll win.” Deems retorted effortlessly, already fully convinced Manjoon would vote for him, despite everything he had just said.

Manjoon sighed. He was hopeless.

“...You know what? I don’t care what your reasoning is. Just give me the pepper.”

With one unexpectedly strong motion, Manjoon pried the container out of Deems’ desperate hands and held it high into the air, leaving the judge clawing all over him in an attempt to get it back.

“H-H-Hey! Taking my ingredients away is against the rules! You’re interfering with my recipe! CONTEMPT OF COMPETITION! _CONTEMPT OF COMPETITION!”_

The ruckus attracted quite a few confused glances from the other competitors, but thankfully, nobody had seemed to catch onto Deems’ terrible plan. Still, Manjoon didn’t want to make a scene, so he tried his best to hush the other man.

“Deems, I’m doing you a _favor!”_ He hissed under his breath. “If you put pepper in that cupcake, you are going to lose. I am not going to vote for your dessert just because I know it’s yours, got it? Good. Now, I’m off to see how the others are doing, and I’m taking this pepper with me.”

 _“No!”_ Grabbing at Manjoon’s clothes, Deems continued to persist, and with no other choice, Manjoon switched tactics. Instead of fighting back, the attorney wrapped his arms around the feral judge, batting his eyelashes lovingly at the other man.

“My, Deems, you’re being _soooo_ handsy~.” Manjoon purred, running a hand through Deems' brunette hair. “Save it for later, when we’re alone—or do you want others to see, you dirty boy?”

After earning a wink from the other man, Deems started to struggle to get _away_ instead of closer, his pride more at stake than his cayenne pepper. “F… Fuck you! It’s not like that! I’m… I’m straight, everyone! I’m straight...”

“Riiiight.”

And with that, Manjoon walked off, leaving the sad judge to mope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The station next door to Deems’ was home to a green-suited attorney named Typhon Reptillious, who, frankly, Manjoon was surprised had even entered the competition.

“Isn’t cooking cupcakes, er, ‘below’ you?” Manjoon asked, peeking his head over his shoulder. What immediately caught his attention were a host of fancy ingredients the lawyer had brought, mostly in foreign languages Manjoon couldn’t read. It figured Typhon would use the highest end ingredients to get the upper edge.

“It is, but I figured I’d show you peasants how it’s done.” Typhon stated curtly, not having the decency to turn his head to face Manjoon.

“Standoffish as usual, I see…” Manjoon mumbled under his breath—though he jumped back when he felt something thin slip into his hand. Looking down, he realized there was a five dollar bill stuffed between his thumb and fingers, that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Had Typhon done this? But when?

“There’s a little extra incentive to chose me as the winner—just in case your taste is too pedestrian to appreciate my baking.” Typhon whispered, finally turning to face him. Well, that confirms how he got the money, but Manjoon was still amazed at how stealthily he had done it. Then again, bribes like this were rather becoming of the scummy lawyer. How hadn’t he gotten disbarred yet?

Manjoon shook his head, scolding himself for even giving the man credit for such a terrible thing. It was his job to make this a fair competition, not be in awe of contestants trying to ruin its integrity with their own petty tricks.

“Mr. Reptillious, I’m sorry, but I cannot accept bribes.” He stated bluntly, placing the bill back into Typhon’s pocket—only to realize two more were now stuffed into his left hand.

“Mr. Reptillious, I’m _serious.”_ Manjoon growled, stepping closer to return the bills, only to catch Typhon’s lightning-fast hand stuffing a replacement into his pants’ waistband like some fully-clothed whore.

“Ah… I missed.” Typhon noted, looking down, but didn’t blame himself. He was a pro at this, after all. “You need to stop moving so much; I can’t aim properly. Now, stand still, so Honest Abe can convince you to rig the entire competition.”

Crouching like a tiger, Typhon leapt on top of the smaller attorney, quickly pulling him to the ground where it was harder to resist.

“Take my money! _Take it!”_ Typhon screamed as he threw all his spare change in Manjoon’s face, causing a scene similar to what Deems had done earlier. But this time, one of the onlookers happened to walk over and join in.

“Hey, I’ll let you rape _me_ if you give me money.” Deems offered, looking down on the two with a hopeful smile on his face.

“Deems… That’s not rape. That’s just being a prostitute.” Typhon deadpanned, looking up from his prey. “And isn’t that really… gay? You were just screaming about how you were straight a few minutes ago, and now you’re willing to have sex with men for money?”

Deems gulped, sweat visibly forming on his face. “O-Oh, right. Yeah, a straight guy wouldn’t do that. Or maybe he would, since I’m straight and I did, but maybe it’s just because your long hair is so girly? Yeah, that must be it. You’re basically a trap, Typhon. A trap that’s… really tall and manly with hairy arms and a deep, sexy voice, and...”

Typhon rolled his eyes, not interested in Deems blathering on about his sexuality crisis once again.

“Look, I won’t pay you to have sex, but I _will_ pay you to shut up.” Typhon growled, flicking a quarter right between Deems’ eyes.

“Ow, fuck!” The whiny judge groaned back as he rubbed his forehead, but gladly pocketed the money, with no ill-will towards Typhon. “Hey, thanks, man. I’ll be on my way. Good luck with… er, _not_ raping Manjoon.”

Typhon was eager to see Deems leave, but immediately beckoned him back once he happened upon another bright, bribe-worthy idea.

“Hey, Deems! There’s one more thing I could pay you for.” Typhon yelled from atop Manjoon, pinning him down even harder as he tried to break free.

Deems hurried back, eager to make more of a profit.

“I want you to… sabotage your own cupcakes.” Typhon said, with a malicious glint in his eyes.

“Oh, _sure!”_ Deems replied with a contrastingly lighthearted tone, eyeing the cayenne pepper that still sat in Manjoon’s front pocket. “How about you pay me, let’s say… two thousand dollars, and I’ll dump that entire can of pepper into my mix?”

“Make it seventy-five cents, and we have a deal.”

_“Deal!”_

Typhon handed the judge three more quarters—this time, kind enough not to throw them at his face—and the bottle of cayenne pepper, content that he at least got one pesky competitor of of the way. But as for Manjoon…

 _“If you don’t get off me this instant, I will fully disqualify you!”_ The smaller attorney yelled at last, squirming beneath the other man.

“Oh, _fine!”_ Fearing disqualification, he jumped off of the flustered contest judge and gathered up his loose change before anyone else got their grubby hands on it. “But the deal’s off. You insulted my cash when you refused to take it, and when you insult my cash, you insult _me."_ And also because he realized it’d be easier to bribe the other contestants instead.

“Wonderful…” Manjoon sighed, only half paying attention. He had more pressing things to attend to: namely stopping Deems from being Deems.

Thankfully, the idiot judge tended to have a flair for the dramatic, thus had barely even opened the lid when Manjoon finally slid onto the scene and pried it from his hands once more.

“Manjoon, _noooo!”_ Deems screamed—with a similarly dramatic tone—as the can was taken from him once more.

“Deems, I swear, I will disqualify you as well if you keep this up.” Manjoon scolded, figuring if it worked well enough against Typhon, it’d work against Deems.

“Okay, deal, but you have to say I was disqualified for being too good for the competition.”

...Well, that backfired.

“No, you will be _shamefully_ disqualified for breaking the rules.”

“But I didn’t break any rules! Where in the rules does it say cayenne pepper isn’t—”

But Deems cut himself off after Manjoon placed both of his hands on his shoulders and gave him a serious, pleading stare with his big, puppy dog eyes.

“Deems, please. Don’t sabotage your cooking. Do it for me. I know you’re worried you’ll lose, but you’re a great baker and a great _man,_ and cheating is just going to dirty that reputation.” 

Manjoon combed his hands lovingly through Deems’ hair as he spoke, while the other man simply blushed and looked away, whispering ‘I’m not gay’ over and over again.

“...And I’m also seriously not going to vote based off of who made each dessert, no matter how much you think I am.” Manjoon added in a much harsher tone, sticking the cayenne pepper into his back pocket. “Now, hurry up and finish your cupcakes— _without_ ruining them first. You should be starting to bake them soon if you want to finish in time.”

Giving Deems an assuring pat on the back, he walked off, once again, leaving the judge to mope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Next on his list was his least favorite competitor, by far: Atakin Torney. Perhaps Deems’ rivalry with him helped play a role in Manjoon’s own opinion, but even without any bias, he disliked how the attorney had to make even the most mundane things into a competition.

“Hello, Atakin.” Manjoon mumbled, barely able to conceal his disdain for the blue-suited attorney.

“I have immaculate senses, you know.” Atakin responded curtly. “And I can tell from your greeting that you hold disdain for me.”

...Never mind, then. His disdain hadn't been concealed at all. Moving on.

“I take it your cupcakes are—”

“Flawless as usual.” Atakin cut in, lifting a smarmy eyebrow as he leaned against the counter, simply oozing confidence. “I have immaculate sentence-completing skills as well, in case you didn’t know.”

“Fantastic.” Manjoon deadpanned, turning his heel to leave, only to be stopped by a large hand placed on his shoulder.

“Hey, Park, do you feel comfortable judging this?” Att asked, reeling him back in. “I think you’re too soft. Too biased. And your taste is probably too… Korean for such a Western food, if we’re being honest.”

Manjoon wrinkled his nose at that last statement. Wasn’t Deems supposed to be the racist one? Though at least Deems normally did it out of ignorance; what was Att’s excuse?

“I’m perfectly capable of judging cupcakes, Mr. Torney.” Manjoon assured him, removing his hand from his shoulder. “In fact, my friend happens to own a bakery. I may be even more qualified than _you.”_

Before Manjoon had even finished, Att lifted his head and let out a booming laugh, confidence emanating off of him even more than before.

“Oh, but Park, I also have a friend who owns a bakery, and I assure you he’s far better than your friend. His name’s Edwin Case. You know, the guy who started this whole competition? The guy who owns the very kitchen we’re in? The one who tends to _win_ these things—when it’s not me? Yeah, that’s my friend. Who’s yours? Some nobody?”

Manjoon just stared at him, eyebrows slowly descending. Was he really doing this? Competing over who had the better baker friend? This guy…

“Why the long face, Park? You look annoyed.” Att added, pointing at the contest judge’s face. “See, this was exactly what I was talking about. You’re too biased. How can I trust my cupcakes will get the rating they deserve when someone like you is judging them? They should hand the judging over to me instead.”

Manjoon closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing, knowing Atakin would only have more to use against him if he showed any more negative emotions.

“Mr. Torney, I assure you the judging will be fair. It’s a blind taste test; I won’t know who made what.”

But despite how honest he was being, Atakin wasn’t fully buying it.

“But what about Deems? Wasn’t he trying to add some spice into his to make his recognizable? Don’t think I didn’t hear that. I have immaculate—”

“Yes, yes, you have immaculate hearing.” Manjoon waved off with a sigh, sliding the bottle out of his pants pocket to show the lawyer. “But don’t worry. I took it away from him, and wouldn’t judge him any differently even if he _had_ happened to put it in.”

Atakin kept his eyes narrowed, then shrugged. “If you say so. But I’ll be keeping my eye out for anything suspicious. If adding pepper into my food is what it takes to win, I will.”

“You do that... “ Manjoon said with a lethargic wave as he trudged off, glad to have not been assaulted during this encounter, yet somehow feeling even more drained after speaking with Att compared to the last two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Susan Uno was up next, and Manjoon had high hopes that this encounter would actually go smoothly—and perhaps even be pleasant. She was a rather down to earth individual, who he had always felt at ease with whenever they talked. Manjoon was quite positive she was actually one of the new law robots created to prevent bias in courtrooms, but Susan seemed to have went rogue, wanting to fit in with the humans rather than replace them. He didn’t mind her few oddities and treated her like he would any normal human; as one of the few sane co-workers he had, she deserved that much.

“Hello, Susan. How are your cupcakes coming along?” Manjoon asked in his most professional tone as he walked up behind her.

“I am pleased that you are interested in my work, Mr. Park. Everything has gone ‘smoothly’ thus far.” She responded, setting her mixing spoon off to the side. ”Given the ingredients I’ve selected, I believe allowing these cupcakes to be heated at exactly 177.6°C for 14 minutes and 23 seconds will give me cupcakes of the most optimal texture, so long as the oven is calibrated correctly. Do you agree with that assessment?”

 _‘Your robot is showing’_ was what Manjoon wanted to say, but he held his tongue. “Er, yes. That sounds like a fine assessment. I’m sure your cupcakes will be perfect.”

 _Too_ perfect.

Manjoon leaned himself against the counter, watching her pour impeccably equal amounts of batter into each individual cup.

“Say, Susan… Do you care about how you place in this? If you lost, would it bother you?”

Susan froze for a second as she processed his question, then slowly opened her mouth to respond.

“A machine’s only concern is with winning.” She stated robotically, but her facial features soon softened into a warm smile. “But a human cares more about the competition itself than the results. ‘It’s about the journey, not the destination,’ yes?”

Manjoon nodded his head, pleased with her answer. If only more people thought like her…

“I wish others thought more like you. Especially Deems. If he gets last place, I’m pretty sure he’ll be bawling in his chambers for hours on end. He can be such a manchild...”

Susan tilted her head to one side, going much too far to be natural, but Manjoon gave her credit for at least trying to imitate human quirks.

“Is it wrong for a man to have the heart of a child?” She asked. “I thought people enjoyed the presence of children.”

“Certain qualities of children are fine, but a grown man shouldn’t cry about losing a cupcake competition.” He explained with a roll of his eyes.

“I see. In that case, I hope Mr. Mendel does not lose this competition so he does not have to cry about it.”

“You and me both…” Manjoon sighed, pulling the cayenne pepper out of his pocket. For a few seconds, he just stared at it, a host of different emotions running through him. Fear that Deems would lose. Anger that the idiot was so easily broken. Frustration with himself for caring so much.

He shook his head, and looked back over to Susan.

“What matters more to you more? Judging something fairly or making the most people happy?”

Susan set down her bowl and paused, weighing her options.

“The law would dictate judging fairly is most important. However, laws are rigid and cannot account for all scenarios. Sometimes, it may be morally correct to do something lawfully incorrect. As for me, I would probably… follow the rules. My programming—that is, how my brain is wired—makes it difficult to stray from the guidelines I'm given. Sometimes... I wish that weren’t the case.”

“I see.” Manjoon didn’t really expect anything else as an answer, but it did make him curious as to what she’d do in his current bind. “What about here? Do you think it’s better to risk Deems’ heart being broken, or fiddle with things to make sure he doesn’t lose?”

There was another pause—much longer than the rest—and when she did answer, it was in the form of a question of her own.

“Would you like me to fiddle with things so Mr. Mendel's heart isn't broken?”

Manjoon’s eyes widened, not expecting that at all.

“What? No, no! I wasn’t insinuating that at all!” He blurted out, waving his hands in a panic. “It was purely rhetorical.”

Susan simply tilted her head again, seemingly confused as to why the attorney was freaking out so much. Perhaps she should explain herself.

“Mr. Park, our discussion has left me a bit confused, but I believe it has also led me to a solid conclusion on this particular issue. Mr. Mendel’s happiness will be ruined if he loses, while my happiness will not be affected at all if I lose. Therefore, it follows that I should lose, correct? My assessment is not logical at all from a competitive standpoint, but given that I am not participating to win, I believe it is _quite_ logical. My emotions would prefer this outcome as well.”

“Susan, you're... You’re really something.” Manjoon replied, shaking his head. “I still don’t think it’s right for you to sabotage yourself, but… if that’s really what you’d prefer, I have an idea.”

He reached out and gently placed the bottle of pepper in her hand. “If you put this in your cupcakes, I’ll be able to know they’re yours during the blind taste test. That way, you’ll be last and Deems won’t be able to lose.”

“Thank you, Mr. Park. I’m grateful for your cooperation.” She replied with a serene smile of her own as she started sprinkling pepper into the remaining unpoured mix.

“Honestly, it’s you who I should be thanking, Susan. You really are the most human of us all.” He gave her a soft smile and a pat on the back, then left to check up on his last competitor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he got to Edwin, his cupcakes were already out of the oven and onto the cooling rack. That said, he was having trouble even getting to Edwin’s station.

“Whooooa there! You can’t _Park_ here! This is a no _Park_ -ing zone! Get it? ‘Park?’ It’s your last name?”

Americans and their ‘Park’ puns… Why did they have to romanize his name that way?

“You’re hilarious.” Manjoon deadpanned, a little miffed by just how persistent this detective was. It had been almost a full minute, and yet he was still blocking his path.

“But seriously, my cupcakes are already done, so what's there to even see? I assure you there’s nothing illegal in them. Why, I’m sure eating them will be a walk in the _Park!”_ The detective grinned, giving Manjoon one of his trademark winks, while the attorney just sighed.

“You know what? I’ll take your word for it.”

Finding it fruitless to even try to hold a conversation with the detective outside of being the butt of a hundred nonsensical jokes, he simply left to check up on the other contestants a second time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As he made another walk around of the kitchen, he was happy to see even Deems had successfully started baking his cupcakes. From there, most of the competitors simply stood around and chatted, with a few heated words and unsuccessful bribes from Typhon thrown out here and there. Manjoon had to break up one fist fight between Att and Deems, but otherwise, things went smoothly.

Soon, the entire kitchen was warm with a sweet, chocolaty aroma, and Manjoon couldn’t help but feel at ease. He still felt bad that Susan decided to sacrifice her cooking for Deems, but it did make his own job easier, and if she truly felt better this way, wasn't it for the best? He still didn’t know. It felt wrong, even if it was technically the ‘best’ choice.

Once the timer went off, everyone picked up their desserts and marched across the block to the courthouse where the results would be held, the sweet smell of chocolate catching a few passerby’s attention. After a short, horrible, pun-filled speech by Edwin, Manjoon made his way to the judge’s bench, and grabbed his first cupcake.

“Here we go. Cupcake number one.”

He peeled off the foil liner and brought the cupcake up to his mouth, taking a small bite. It was a good call, as his senses immediately picked up something spicy. It wasn’t strong at all—in fact, he could eat the entire cupcake with ease if he wanted to—but there was definitely a hint of something hot in there. It figures even while adding pepper, Susan would still make a perfectly tasty cupcake. What a woman.

“Cupcake number two.”

He picked up the next one, and, knowing the supposedly ‘bad’ cupcake had already been found, took a bigger bite out of this one.

Burning pain immediately bombarded his tongue and he was so surprised, he almost had to spit it out. What the hell?!

His hazel eyes darted over to Deems, who gave him a wink and a big thumbs up, shaking a new container of what he could only assume was cayenne pepper. Did that idiot go out to the store and buy another one?! Was he really that desperate to… to what? Lose?! He told him time and time again that he wasn’t going to vote for him based off of recognition alone, so why?!

He took a deep breath and a sip of water, then sighed, calming himself. Okay, forget Deems’ feelings. He’d be definitely putting that one in last place, just to teach him a lesson. Next?

“Cupcake three…”

As soon as he took a bite, agonizing pain spread through his mouth and he visibly gagged as he reached for his cup and downed the whole thing. Were his senses going mad?! How could there be three spicy ones?

“I bet that one was mine.” Manjoon heard Att brag in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “He took the biggest bite out of it.”

“Yeah, but did you see his face?” Deems spat back, balling his hands into fists. “He cringed the most! Your cupcake sucks, Atakin!”

Of course Atakin would add pepper in once he realized Deems did. Why did Manjoon doubt him for a second? In fact, he probably decided on his own that this was now a ‘Who bakes the best cupcake with loads of cayenne pepper’ contest. Those two would be the end of him.

Moving on. “Cupcake four.”

Surely, this one had to—

Nope. Spicy again. So spicy that his eyes were watering, and this time, he had no water to save him. By this point, he wasn’t even surprised. He was just… lost. Confused. Dead inside.

“Okay… Quick question.” Manjoon asked, placing an irritated hand to his temple, head dizzying from both pain and disgust. “Is there anyone who didn’t put any cayenne pepper in their cupcake?” 

A lone hand was raised, owned by the contest’s creator, Edwin Case.

“Edwin wins. Court’s adjourned. Good night.” Manjoon slammed his gavel on the bench crumpled onto the desk, wanting this nightmare of a contest to finally end.

“Hold on! Nobody told me cayenne pepper was against the rules!” Typhon growled, picking up another cupcake from his batch and taking a bite. “It’s an old family recipe! It tastes really good!”

Meanwhile, Edwin just laughed—but it wasn’t his normal cheerful laugh; it was an awkward one.

“Um, wow. I was expecting to lose so miserably, that I hadn’t even prepared a joke for this outcome.”

He scratched his chin and let out another awkward chuckle. 

“My… My cupcake had hot sauce in it.”


End file.
